


The Red Strokes

by Magellan88



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Don't copy to another site, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers - Freeform, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-war James "Bucky" Barnes, Stormy nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:00:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magellan88/pseuds/Magellan88
Summary: Stormy nights are perfect for painting, and other things.





	The Red Strokes

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone likes this, it's inspired by the Garth Brooks song of the same name

Moonlight on canvas, midnight and wine   
Two shadows starting to softly combine   
The picture they're painting   
Is one of the heart   
And to those who have seen it   
It's a true work of art   
July in New York is sweltering, but the two men in small flat never notice. It could be a blizzard outside and they would never know. They're so close, not even a breath could pass between them, sweat slicked skin making every move as smooth as can be as Steve holds Bucky's hands. Red paint spreads onto the canvas in a nonsensical pattern, as Bucky had long since lost his focus on his painting "lesson" due to the slow, nearly torturous tender motion of Steve's hips.  
Oh, the red strokes   
Passions uncaged   
Thundering moments of tenderness rage   
Oh, the red strokes   
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)   
Burning the night like the dawn   
Outside a thunderstorm rages, heat lightning mixing with raindrops pounding against the window pane covering the small sounds the two young lovers make. The small gasps and moans quieted by bitten lips and fear of being caught. Being caught means pain, ridicule, possibly death for Steve. But love can't be stopped, it will either find a way to flourish or destroy what it holds.  
Steam on the window, salt in a kiss   
Two hearts have never pounded like this   
Inspired by a vision   
That they can't command   
Erasing the borders   
With each brush of a hand   
The paint brush clatters to the floor as hands clasp and stroke over bodies, their movements taking on a feverish pace as they race. Bucky lifting Steve's small frame to aid his movements and they fall back onto the threadbare rug. Steve's back arching when Bucky takes his cock into his hand, stroking in time with his thrusts.  
Oh, the red strokes   
Passions uncaged   
Thundering moments of tenderness rage   
Oh, the red strokes   
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)   
Burning the night like the dawn   
Thunder crashes, covering the sounds of the two lovers as they reach their peaks together. Their cries too small to be heard over the storm. Soft laughs bubble up from the giddy lovers. To the outside world, they're simply friends, as close as two friends can be. But in here, in the quiet of the little flat they call home, they're lovers, the rings they don't dare wear in the outside world warm on their fingers. Maybe someday they can show their love to the world, but for now, this is enough. More than enough. It's everything.  
Oh, the blues will be blue and the jealousies green   
But when love picks its shade it demands to be seen 

Oh, the red strokes   
Passions uncaged   
Thundering moments of tenderness rage   
Oh, the red strokes   
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)   
Burning the night like the dawn   
Another lifetime, another stormy night, but the same two hands hold the brush and the same two bodies move together in a dance as old as life.   
Many things have changed since those stormy nights so long ago, but this, this will always be the same. The same rings grace their fingers, but now, they don't have to hide. And they love it, kisses are shared and hands are held no matter where they are. But they only paint alone. No one sees these paintings and no one ever will.  
Oh, the red strokes   
Passions uncaged   
Thundering moments of tenderness rage   
Oh, the red strokes   
Tempered and strong (Fearlessly drawn)   
Burning the night like the dawn 

Steam on the window, salt in a kiss   
Two hearts have never pounded like this


End file.
